


Johnlock~ Here For You

by crystaloflove



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:10:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystaloflove/pseuds/crystaloflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John had always thought that Sherlock was the most brilliant consulting detective in the world and was impressed that he could deduce almost anything. Although when it came to processing his feelings he was more like a robot. What will happen to the pair when Sherlock is caught in a dilemma that could change both of their lives for good?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "No... Hosptials"

**Author's Note:**

> Erm sorry if it's bad this is my first fanfiction I would love to know what you think and it's also available on wattpad if you happen by any chance what to vote for it http://www.wattpad.com/31182471-johnlock-%7E-here-for-you-no-hospitals?utm_source=web&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_info&ref_id=12287170 and erm yeah I hope you enjoy

Sherlock hid behind the corner, watching discreetly as the supposed drug dealer got into a shiny black Volkswagen. From his position Sherlock could clearly see the car had only three occupants, I could easily arrest them, if I'm careful, Sherlock thought to himself. The man in the passenger seat handed the dealer a bulky brown envelope which earned a grin in response from the dealer, he then proceeded to hand over a plastic bag full of white looking powder. Just as I suspected Sherlock thought, He is a drug dealer! Withouta seconds hesitation Sherlock ran to the unsuspecting criminals and began to arrest them. However what Sherlock didn't calculate was the chance they had others, within a few minutes Sherlock was wrestled to the ground by one of the biggest men he had ever seen. The man began punching and kicking Sherlock until he began to feel dizzy and an incredibly annoying buzzing noise started to ring in his ears. Sherlock could feel himself losing consciousness, before he could attempt trying get away the burly man leaped up and jumped in the car, the squealing of car tires was the last thing Sherlock heard before the over whelming blackness took over him.

Sherlock woke to what must of been hours later, his head still ringing and his side aching painfully. Breathing heavily Sherlock rose himself to a siting position, and even that caused him agonising pain. Sherlock placed a hand on his forehead, trying to control his breathing and desperately failing at stopping the trickle of blood oozing from a cut above his right eyebrow. He knew he needed to move, but at the same time he just wanted to sleep. Where was John, the good doctor when he needed him the most? Oh John, the only person on earth who could tolerate Sherlock's robot-like behaviour, how he wished he was here. Taking a deep breath Sherlock hauled himself to feet and took a few steps forward, he was wobbling on his feet but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

What should of took a twenty minute walk, Sherlock stumbled into his flat 221B on Baker Street two hours later breathing heavily and barely standing. "John." Sherlock wheezed. Sherlock slid down the door grasping his side, "John." he tried again. This time the good doctor heard him and came tumbling out of his bedroom wearing only a t-shirt and shorts, "Damn Sherlock I was sleeping this better be important." John exclaimed, only just looking at the state the detective was in John froze at the sight of him.

"John." Sherlock groaned, this seemed to snap the doctor out of his state of shock and rushed over to the injured Sherlock. "What happened Sherlock? You're in a right state." John inquired as he helped Sherlock rise to his feet and gently guide him to the couch.

"I was... studying the... drug dealer when..." Sherlock breathed in sharply as John started dabbing at his cut and wiping all the muck off of his face. "When I began to... arrest them... I was jumped. He started to... punch and kick me... then I must've passed out... I woke up hours later... and made my way... back here. You... know the rest." Sherlock explained to a very confused John.

"Well, you're injured pretty badly so I'm going to finish cleaning you up and then I'm taking you to the hospital." John said as he moved on to inspect Sherlock's side. John started to un-tuck Sherlock's shirt when Sherlock yanked John towards him so John was only a few centimetres away from Sherlock's face. John could feel his face getting hotter every passing second with the close proximity "No." Sherlock said as firmly as he could in his weakened state.

"...No?" John questioned. "No what?" John placed his hand on top of Sherlock's in attempt to remove Sherlock's grip on him.

"No... Hospitals." Sherlock pleaded as his face contorted in pain. John's breath caught in his throat at seeing the overwhelming pain his flatmate eyes, however he knew how stubborn Sherlock would be so formulated a plan.

"Ok, no hospitals but we are going to the pharmacy to get you some medicine. Deal?" John said dragging Sherlock onto his feet. "Ok, thanks John." Sherlock half smiled. After making their way down the stairs Sherlock hailed a taxi, but before Sherlock could say a word John ordered the taxi to take them straight to the hospital.

"John... you promised." Sherlock whimpered.

"I know, I know but you're badly hurt." John attempted to calm Sherlock down. "It's going to be ok, shhhh." absentmindedly John began to run his fingers though Sherlock's hair as if he was scared child.

Sherlock started to moan and clasped his stomach. "It hurts, John it hurts." Sherlock cried, suddenly Sherlock started having a coughing fit, spitting up blood in the process.

John started to painc this was definitely not normal. "STEP ON IT!" John practically screamed, the taxi driver complied by pushing his foot down on the accelerater. John couldn't take it much longer, he just hoped, prayed even that Sherlock was alright. "Shh, it's ok im here." John soothed a whimpering Sherlock, "Everything's going to be fine." John almost seemed to be convincing himself that everything would be alright rather than his flatmate. When they arrived at the hospital John threw some cash at the driver and proceeded to drag Sherlock towards the hospital entrance. "HELP, HE NEEDS HELP!" John yelled to a near by nurse who just happened to be on her break smoking. The petty blonde ran into the hospital to be later followed out by 3 men, two carrying a stretcher for the injured detective.

Sherlock heaved and spluttered out blood, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the floor not moving apart from the occasional up and down motion on his chest. "Sherlock, Sherlock wake up." John cried, for the first time since he met Sherlock John wished he was off whizzing around the place, rambling on about complete and utter nonsense.

For the first time in his life, John couldn't imagine a world without Sherlock and what a world that would be. A world he would rather not have to live in.


	2. I'm Here

As Sherlock was carried away John felt a pair of arms gently tug on his right arm. "John is it? Hello, I'm Kirsty and you need to follow me and calm down. He'll be ok he's in very good hands." said the blonde nurse he saw earlier. All John could manage was a small nod of his head and allowed himself to be led into what he presumed was the waiting room. The floor was a sickly grey, decorated with splashes of random colour here and there and the wall was a very pale cream almost white, John thought the room looked more suitable for the mental ward.

"John? John, JOHN?!" John felt himself being shaken quiet harshly he might add and was met with the worried eyes of Kirsty. "Mmmm ? Sorry I was just thinking." John apologised shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, erm well I'm sorry to have to say this but I just thought I should tell you that they're taking him into theatre now as he has critical internal bleeding in his lower adomben. Speaking of which they need me to scrub in for the surgery, you'll be alright won't you John?" Kirsty said as she started to run through the doors, not even waiting for a reply, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

After what seemed like days, three hours later a tall man with light brown hair and shining green eyes walked into the waiting room carrying a clip board overflowing with sheets. "Mr Watson?" the man called. "That's me, is he all right? Is he awake yet? And it's doctor by the way." John said in a rush.

"He's going to be fine, although I suggest plenty of bed rest and for him to take it easy over the course of the next few weeks. You can go see him now if you wish DOCTOR Watson but he's still unconscious due to the surgery but he should wake up in a mere few hours, he's in the room 112 just across the hall."

"Thank you." John generally smiled as he followed the directions he was given until he came across the room 112. His palms started to sweat and he suddenly became very anxious, through the small glass window John could see Sherlock fast asleep, his chest rising ever so slightly and his unruly curls plastered to his face in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked peaceful - as if he didn't have a care in the world. John quietly pushed open the door and sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair that was on the left hand side to Sherlock's bed. John sat there for hours just looking at Sherlock, taking in every detail - the way his hair was at every angle possible, yet still looked perfect. His high defined cheek bones that cradled a slight blush and the gradual rise and fall of his chest at perfect rhythm.

Every now and then someone would walk into the room and check Sherlock's vital signs and bring John some tea, which actually wasn't that bad considering where they were. Some time later John must've fallen asleep as he awoke to light streaming in through the window accenting Sherlock's features perfectly. The detective started to stir, his eyes fluttering furiously "NO, PLEASE. STOP NO JUST PLEASE NO!" he cried bolting up suddenly. "J-John?" he whispered, his eyes glassy and distant. He looked vulnerable and scared as he curled up in a ball and began to sob "Don't let him hurt me." he whispered softly. John could feel his heart breaking at the sight, he had never really seen Sherlock express any real emotion before.

"Shh Sherlock it's ok, no one can hurt you now." John soothed Sherlock as he gently rubbed his back.

"J-John?" Sherlock sniffed, "Hold me... please?" he whimpered as he moved over and patted the space beside him. John couldn't stand the sight of him upset so did as Sherlock requested and shuffled onto the small hospital bed. Sherlock layed his head down on John's chest and wrapped the blanket around them both, John subconsciously ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, the soothing motion causing both men to fall into a blissful sleep.

Sherlock woke up the next day feeling refreshed and rested although he had a burning sensation in his lower adonomen. He slowly pushed him self up, the movement causing him uncomfortable pain. "Ugh." he groaned as he slowly draped his legs over the side of the hospital bed once he had done so he placed his feet on the floor and braced himself as he stood up. Sherlock instantly fell, hitting his head in the process and waking up a startled John. "Sherlock are you alright?" John asked as he ran to his friends aid.

"Yeah, perfectly fine. It's not like I'm in pain or anything." Sherlock replied sarcastically. John rolled his eyes and helped his flatmate back to bed.

"The doctor said you have to stay in bed and get plenty of bed rest, as you've probably noticed you've had surgery so shouldn't try to walk. Although I've already seen you've tried to." John disapproved.

"John, I'm perfectly fine, stop worrying." Sherlock smiled slightly. John knew he was lying but decided to ignore it anyway and proceeded to sit on the chair next to Sherlock's bed.

"Sherlock about last night, erm do you remember anything?" John asked nervously.

"Let's see I distinctly remember returning to the flat in tremendous pain, and then I think I woke you up and begged you not to take me to the hospital which by the way you totally ignored." Sherlock raised an eyebrow in John's direction, "Anyway that's all I remember... did something happen?" Sherlock asked anxiously.

John debated whether or not he should tell him about what he said. "You started to mumble things then you woke up sobbing and you kept saying 'Don't let him hurt me' over and over again. You asked me to hold you and then you fell sleep, I was wondering erm who was going to hurt you?"

Sherlock's face visibly paled, "I...erm...well... I was dreaming about the case and the drug dealer, it just shook me up." he replied, hopeful that John believed him. It was unlike Sherlock to react to a case in such a manner however John didn't push it any further.

"Oh, ok then. You sure you're alright? I should let the doctor know you're awake." John said.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright." Sherlock replied. John got up from the chair and walked out of the room in search of the doctor leaving the detective alone with his thoughts. From what John had told him the attack had stirred up memories that he had longed buried deep in his mind palace, memories that he wished he could forget again.

"Sherlock, SHERLOCK!" John yelled snapping the detective from his thoughts.

"Hmmmm?" was Sherlock's only reply. John shook his head and apologised for his behaviour stating he was always like this; an arrogant sod. Sherlock looked up in front of him and saw a broken man with troubled green eyes. He was quite handsome and by the faint scar located by his nose was involved in some sort of violence. He was obviously gay due to the underwear he wore and the way he would sneak glimpses at John's behind, however he was married. On his left hand was the imprint left by his ring which was apparent was only removed during working hours, all this information was absorbed in Sherlock's mind in a matter of seconds.

"How are you feeling Mr Holmes?" the doctor asked.

"Better thanks Mr...?"

"Winchester. I'm glad to hear you're feeling better, I'm just going to check you over and you should be discharged later today." Dr Winchester assured.

"Ok Dr Winchester, how's the hubby? Doing well I hope?" Sherlock asked smiling quite proudly at his latest deduction.

"Err, he's fine, h-how could you possibly know that?" the doctor stuttered.

"Oh, here we go." John sighed.

Sherlock smiled and began to recite exactly what he had deduced minutes previously. "That is incredible, just amazing!" Dr Winchester exclaimed. Sherlock just smiled proudly.

"Anyway, do you mind me just looking at the stiches to make sure they're healing nicely?" the doctor asked.

"Sure, it really doesn't bother me that you're gay you know." Sherlock replied.

Dr Winchester smiled appreciatively and lifted up Sherlock's gown, he gently removed the bandages and with tentative fingers lightly prodded the damaged skin. Sherlock grimaced and took a sharp intake of breath. "Sorry, it looks to be healing quite well. You'll be happy to know that I will be releasing you shortly after I've changed the dressing and had you sign in some forms." Dr Winchester explained.

Once the dressing had been replaced the doctor left the room in search of the papers and a pen. He returned shortly and explained where Sherlock should sign and the necessary treatment Sherlock would need. He also mentioned as he was being released into John's care where John should sign. "Alright Sherlock I'll leave you to get dressed, just call if you need anything. John would you be so kind to follow me please?" Dr Winchester politely asked.

"Sure, see you in a few Sherlock." John turned towards the door and followed the doctor out.

"John, you seem to care for him more than a friend you can deny you're feelings all you want but I saw the state you were in when he was brought here. Whether or not you deny what you feel I know you care about him deeply." Dr Winchester stated.

"You're absolutely mad! I have no problem with homosexuals such as your self but I'm 100% positive I'm not one! You must have female friends that you care deeply about but that doesn't mean you're shagging them does it? I have the right to care for my BEST FRIEND without being romantically involved with him!" John yelled angrily, his fists clenched together tightly.

"I'm sorry, I just thought..." the doctor muttered as he held his head in shame.

"Well, you thought wrong didn't you? Now if you excuse me I am going to take my BEST FRIEND home." and with that John walked briskly away back to Sherlock's room.

"What was all the shouting about?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Nothing. Now come on we're leaving, just put your arm around my neck and I'll help you get out of here." John said as he marched forward and slung Sherlock's arm around his neck. Sherlock was about to protest untill he saw the expression upon John's face and thought better of it. The pair left quickly (well as quickly as two men could go with one of them injured) and reached the hospital's exit where John hailed a cab. John gently guided Sherlock into the back seat and made his way to the other side. He barked at the driver to take them back to 221B Baker Street and stared angrily ahead. This is going to be a long ride Sherlock thought to himself as he looked out the window, watching the passing scenery fade away.


	3. The Nightmare Has Only Just Begun

"Oh Sherlock are you alright dear? Would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs Hudson fumbled as she held the door open and helped John ease Sherlock into his chair.

"I'm fine, thank you Mrs Hudson although that cup of tea would be lovely." Sherlock smiled.

"Alright dear, just this once though as you're not feeling too well, I'm not your house keeper." she said over her shoulder as she quickly walked into a bomb site of a kitchen. Sherlock only shook his head and closed his eyes, throbbing pain radiating from his abdomen making him feel uncomfortable.

"Here." John said soothingly passing Sherlock some pain relief, "I could tell you were in pain, the doctor said you should take some of those if the pain ever becomes too much, take them with your tea." Mrs Hudson passed Sherlock the cup and sat in John's chair while Sherlock took the pills. They were pale orange in colour and tasted a little dry and were to Sherlock's distaste.

"They taste awful!" Sherlock exclaimed pulling a face of disgust, but soon felt the pain melt away.

"They're not supposed to taste nice, what did you expect sugar cubes?" John rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"No," Sherlock scoffed, "Just something that didn't taste like chemically made garbage. Orange flavour? Does the pharmacy even know what fruit tastes like? Because this certainly isn't it!" John looked at Sherlock with a slight smirk plastered to his features and started to laugh. His shoulders moved back and his body straightened out quivering with laughter. Laugh lines scattered his face and his bright blue eyes glittered. "What's so funny?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Oh it's nothing." John replied humorously shaking his head.

"Oh." was all Sherlock had to say utterly confused. "Right and John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm bored," Sherlock groaned "Lestrade won't give me a case either. John BORED."

"Yes I get it you're bored Sherlock and I specifically told Lestrade not to give you a case." John saw Sherlock about to protest, "And before you say anything the doctor told you to take it easy, you are not leaving the flat end of."

Sherlock just stared at John in disbelief. "Well I best be off dears." Mrs Hudson said as she walked across the room and headed for the door.

"Goodbye Mrs Hudson and thanks for the tea." John shouted to her retreating back, Sherlock just nodded in response.

"The least you could've done was thank her!" John exclaimed. Sherlock didn't answer and instead stood up with surprising ease and began to play his violin.

Frustrated John told Sherlock, "Right. Fine, ok be that way I'm going out to buy some milk." Sherlock, to John's annoyance, just continued to play. Mumbling under his breath John stood up and walked out of 221B and hailed a cab to the nearest supermarket.

Alone at last Sherlock placed his violin back into its stand and walked aimlessly around the flat thoughts whizzing.

By the time John got back Sherlock wasn't anywhere to be seen, he checked everywhere even called Lestrade to see if he had seen him, but no luck. Sherlock was gone. Slightly panicking John searched for a note or any sign of where Sherlock could've got to, but again no luck. He tried Sherlock's phone multiple times but he didn't pick up what's the point in having a phone if you can't be bothered to answer it John thought. Sighing he wondered into the kitchen and placed the milk into the fridge and then proceeded to his bedroom, all he could do now was wait...

"Oompf!" Sherlock placed the heavy bags onto the kitchen table making a loud thump in the process. "Why is shopping so hard?!" he moaned.

"Sherlock? Where have you been, I was worried sick!" John said furious.

"I went shopping." Sherlock replied in a lower volume than he expected.

"What?! Speak up Sherlock." John said more calmly than earlier.

"I said, I went shopping, alright? I never do anything for anyone you said so yourself. I do one nice thing for you, completely out of my way and this is the thanks I get?" Sherlock shouted angrily. "You know what John? I've had enough, j-just go away and leave me alone." and with that Sherlock stormed across the hall and slammed the door to his bedroom with such an incredible force the door frame shook.

John just stood there gobsmacked, he didn't know what to say he had no idea Sherlock felt this way. John fought off the urge to call to Sherlock and to check to see if he was alright but instead he did as he was asked, grabbed his coat and walked straight out of 221B and headed off somewhere quiet for a few hours to let Sherlock calm down.

Where is he? Why hasn't he checked on me yet? He never does what I ask of him. Sherlock thought as he aimlessly ran his fingers over his slightly healed stiches. "John?" Sherlock called out to him but he received no reply. "Good he's finally gone." Sherlock smiled as he heaved himself up and wrapped his dressing gown loosely around his waist. He headed towards the living room sat on the sofa, aimlessly browsing through the TV channels. "Boring...Boring and surprise, surprise boring!" Sherlock moaned without John at home the flat was boring. Out of boredom Sherlock stood up from his chair and threw himself on the sofa momentarily forgetting about his recently acquired injures. He landed roughly on his side and whacked his heel on the corner of the coffee table causing a sharp pain to travel up his lower leg. "Ow that wasn't very clever now was it? Great, now I'm sounding like John, ugh." Sherlock muttered to himself, "What to do, what to do hmmmm...." Sherlock wondered as he walked to the kitchen and back again.


	4. Sherlock?!

Roughly an hour later John arrived back at the flat which was quickly filling up with thick black smoke causing him to cough immensely. "Sherlock?" John called worryingly, but there was no answer from the kitchen where smoke was billowing out in a huge cloud. John cautiously walked over to the doorway covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve to prevent breathing in even more smoke, it was so dense that John couldn't even see his hand in front if his face. "Sherlock, where are you?" John called again as the smoke started to disperse through the open door. "Mmmm mover mere." came a muffled answer to John's left, "Sherlock is that you?"

"Uh huh, I med I'm mover mere."

"Ok, I'm coming to get you. Why is there smoke everywhere? You know what, I don't want to know." John said as he made his way towards Sherlock's suspected location. "There you are." John said as he accidently kicked Sherlock. "You're a bloody idiot, did you ever think of opening a window? Of course not because Sherlock Holmes knows everything including 242 types of tobacco ash!" he cried fiercely.

"Actually John it's 243."

"Not the point Sherlock, now go and make yourself useful and open a bloody window!" John sighed as he made his way to the sink and tipped away Sherlock's 'experiment' that he had acquired on the way.

"Did you just throw away my dilute hydrochloric acid down the drain?! You're lucky it wasn't stronger, just don't pour bleach down it." Sherlock said as calmly as possible considering the tense atmosphere.

"What was you doing anyway?" John sighed.

"I told you experimenting, I was testing how much carbon dioxide was present in an average can of full fat Coca-Cola against diet and it accidently caught on fire..." Sherlock explained.

"It just caught on fire? You wasn't smoking again were you Sherlock? You haven't smoked since Irin-" John stopped speaking immediately, "Sherlock I'm sorry, I know you found her departure hard."

"Oh no John! No need to apologise." Sherlock smiled "And for your information I had no other feelings for her beside annoyance do you know how many times she asked me out for dinner?"

John couldn't help but smile, "Wasn't it at least 20 times?"

"Yeah, a day." Sherlock laughed.

"Mrs Hudson won't be happy seeing the state of her kitchen, anything else I shouldn't pour down the drain?" John asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't think so." Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"Well I'll leave you to clean, it shouldn't be a too hard task I'm going to go lay down for a bit and depending on the state of the kitchen we can decide on dinner plans, that alright with you?" John asked.

Sherlock only nodded in reply. John walked back out of the kitchen and decided to crash in Sherlock's room, it wasn't as if he was using it and he was too worn out to make the journey upstairs due to the days emotional upheaval. The bed sheets were warm and soft as John wrapped himself in a cocoon shape similar to a caterpillar and fell swiftly asleep. Once Sherlock had finished the kitchen he went searching for John, the only place he hadn't checked was his own bedroom but surely he wouldn't be in there? Sherlock walked silently across the hall and opened the door as quietly as possible, there on the bed was John, he was sprawled out taking up most of the bed - he looked so peaceful. Sherlock almost didn't want to wake him but he too was tired and had no where else to sleep. John's room was hardly used and was used more as storage as John 'didn't feel the need to unpack' properly so that was out of the question and if Sherlock wanted a decent nights sleep the couch wouldn't do as he was quite a lot bigger. The only option left was to wake up John.

"John." Sherlock whispered, "John." he said a bit louder but John stayed deep in sleep. It was hopeless he was flat out and nothing Sherlock did could wake him. Too tired to do anything else Sherlock climbed onto the bed and yanked the covers off John just enough so it still covered him and proceeded to find a comfortable position amongst the covers. He fell asleep almost instantly. Later that night at roughly 3am Sherlock started to stir, the dream from the hospital was back and it was more vivid than before. "No... I said stop." Sherlock mumbled as he curled up into a ball and kicked John in the back. "What the bloody hell? Why'd you kick me?" John asked half asleep. Sherlock began to whimper and curled up even smaller, "NO!" he screamed. "SHERLOCK!" John shouted waking up the detective, "Listen to me it's not real you're safe now it's ok." John said as he tried to soothe his flatmates nerves. "Come here." John whispered opening up his arms, Sherlock looked at him fear still etched into his eyes, "I won't hurt you, you know me Sherlock." John whispered and moved closer to Sherlock. "Have I ever hurt you?" he murmured. Sherlock looked as if he wanted to run to the bathroom but he stayed still and shook his head in reply.

John took it as a hint to shuffle closer to Sherlock and wrap his arms around him in a protective embrace. Sherlock stiffened then momentarily relaxed and squeezed John tightly. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to see this." Sherlock said into John's jumper still gripping him tightly. "Want me to go?" John asked.

"Could you, I mean if you don't mind of cour-"

"It's fine, don't worry, see you in the morning?" John cut Sherlock off, his voice trembling slightly as he started to get up. Sherlock just held on tighter "I was going to ask you to stay." he murmured and looked up at John with such sadness in his eyes.

"I'll stay if you want me to." John said as he wrapped the quilt around them, "Go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up, promise."


End file.
